If I Knew Then
by antisocialgod
Summary: She cries all the way to her house, thinking of the things she'll never have, the love they will never share, thinking of what the future holds in store for her. The future without him.
1. August, In The Summer

**A/N:** I was trying to finish this before posting, but I just couldn't wait. I'll try to post a chapter as I finish writing a new one, just so I can have something in store in case my muse fails me. But I ask you all to be patient. :)

Also, English is not my first language and this is not beta-d. All the mistakes are mine. Enjoy! :)

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**Prologue.**

She knows it's wrong.

They've been dancing around each other for years, but even though her body wants this more than anything, she knows her head is right when it keeps screaming at her that she shouldn't be doing this, that it is a mistake. She knows this better than anyone, she doesn't need to be reminded. She should just pull back and leave; walk away while she can, while she still has some of her dignity intact.

While she is not yet another girl in Noah Puckerman's bed. (Or, well, couch, but really, all semantics, right?)

She wants to leave, she truly does. Her mind is hazy from all the drinking and she was all too willing to engage in their current activity, but she knows it won't end well. So really, she wants to leave, but then he is whispering sweet nothings in her ear, his hands trailing down her body in a way that it feels as if he's trying to memorize her, all the curves in her body, the swell of her breasts and the feel of her stomach and suddenly, suddenly she just feels so wanted that she doesn't want to leave anymore. She wants to stay right here with him, wants to feel his mouth against hers, his skin touching hers in a way she never thought she would feel, their bodies fitting together so perfectly. How could she leave when being with him, right then and there felt so... _right_?

She can feel his member pulsing against her, wetness shooting through her as he trails soft kisses down her thigh, his hands slowly removing her panties. All these years she had heard him talking about all the ways he could make a girl feel and at that moment, she feels as if he was being incredibly humble and that all of her fantasies (and there were plenty) did not do him justice, because she's pretty sure that he's close enough to actually set her body on fire.

When she feels his erection pushing into her, she bites hard on her lip to keep from crying out, because even though she's pretty sure he knows, she doesn't want to tell him that he is her first. He seems to sense her discomfort though, and he stills himself inside her, lips brushing against her ear as he lets our ragged breaths.

"Y'okay?" he asks and she exhales slowly before pumping her hips against him, silently telling him to continue. His soft hazel eyes peer down at her when he starts to move again but she closes her own eyes; his gaze just feels too powerful for her at that moment and she doesn't want to think about what it all means. She's drunk and horny, he was there to help and there's all there's to it.

They're not making love. He is Noah Puckerman, she's pretty sure he doesn't even know the meaning of the word. No, this is just another random hook-up for him and she has to treat it as such. It doesn't matter that he's the one who sought her out tonight. It doesn't. All that she wants to focus at the moment is the feel of his member moving in and out of her, the feeling of his kisses, hot and urgent against her lips, the feel of _him_. That's all that matters for her right now.

She lets out a loud moan as he pinches her nipples with his hands, pumping into her as his lips work against her neck, biting hard, marking her, as if she needed a physical evidence of the power he has over her. She doesn't, but he's probably not realizing what he is doing and she thinks that maybe it'll be nice to feel like she's his, even if it's just for a few days. It's better than never knowing that feeling at all.

She wants to make it last forever. She knows it's a mistake, that she should not be getting a taste of something she'll never have, but as she feels her stomach coiling with each trust, shivers running up her spine with every kiss, she think it's the best mistake she'll ever make in her life. She wants to say it won't affect her, that her life won't change, but right here and now, this is her turning point. This is the moment that defines the rest of her life, and deep inside her, she's well aware of that particular fact.

Things will never be the same.

And as she feels her orgasm rippling through her, his body shuddering just moments after, she knows that everything has changed. As his name falls from her parted lips in a cry of pleasure, she knows there's no turning back. He has marked her as his, has ruined forever any chance any other man might have had with her. She doesn't understand the extension of their actions yet, but she knows that Noah Puckerman just changed her life.

"Noah..." she whispers, gasping as he pulls himself from inside her, after-waves coursing through her body. She wants to say something, anything, but for the first time in her life, she's rendered speechless. All she wants to do is stare at the ceiling as he settles his body next to hers, pulling her close to him as he places a soft kiss to the side of her jaw, nuzzling his nose against her skin in a way that sends shivers up her spine.

"Sleep," he commands, voice raspy as his eyes flutter closed, his grip against her waist tightening. He doesn't see as a tear escapes her eyes, soon followed by other and then another. He doesn't move when she disentangle her body from his, immediately missing the warmth radiating from his body. He mutters something when she opens the door but he's too tired to be shaken up from his peaceful slumber.

She cries all the way to her house, thinking of the things she'll never have, the love they will never share, thinking of what the future holds in store for her. The future without him.

When he wakes up the next morning, there's no sign of her, nothing but her smell against his skin and the memory of her body against his.

It's six years before he sees her again.


	2. All This Time

**A/N:** _Thank you so much for the reviews and alerts! I really appreciate it. I come bearing the first chapter of this, and I have a few things to explain. As this is AU, Puck and Quinn never had any sort of relationship and thus there's no Beth. Also, I know the events in this particular chapter are probably highly unlikely to happen, but I ask you all to bear with me because this is how this story takes off. I hope you enjoy it. :)_

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**I. **_It's been all this time and I can't get you off my mind._

_...  
_

Shopping is for pussies.

Grocery shopping? Don't even let him get started on that shit. It's not that he doesn't know what he is doing, fuck no. He is Noah Puckerman and there ain't shit in this world that he can't do.

Well, actually there is, but you get his point.

He's no expert at that particular task (seriously, why the fuck would he want to be an expert at that?) but he has to feed himself and unfortunately he doesn't have his mother to do that for him anymore or his girlfriend (thank fuck, that chick was _crazy_).

Thing is, he's starting a new life. He's twenty four, single and he just got himself a pretty sweet record deal with a small label in New York. It's pretty dope, if you ask him. A small label in New York is about ten times better than the best label in Ohio, so it's not like he's gonna start complaining about it. Besides, he was a music major and he knows that he's already getting more than his former classmates are getting. Fuck people if they thought he was gonna be cleaning pools forever.

One way or another, he had arrived to the city that never sleeps just a few weeks ago and now he needs to have food in his apartment because he (unfortunately) can't live on take-out forever.

Yeah, it's stupid, he knows.

He tries not to think about a small brunette when he realizes that he's living in the same city as her. It's not that easy when he sees her name on billboards and all over Broadway marquees, but he tries his best to ignore it. She fucking left without a word and fuck her if she thought he was gonna cry over her.

(Well, he didn't cry, per say, and he wouldn't. He is no pussy.)

Sometimes, though, he can't help himself. It's not like wants to think about her, but just being here, in New York, knowing that she made it – after spending three years hearing her babble about how she would take Broadway by storm and shit like that – well, it was kinda hard not to think about her. So what? Sue him, he has memories. It's not as if he's gonna go after her just because he knows they're in the same city again. He has more balls than that, thank you very much.

And whatever, he has to focus on buying food anyway. And house products and stuff. How the hell is he supposed to know what kind of shit he has to buy? He can't cook, so it's really pointless to buy anything other than stuff he can throw in the microwave or that doesn't have to be cooked at all. Well, that at least narrows it down. He just needs cereal and ramen. And mac and cheese. Yeah, that will keep him alive.

Oh, and beer. He fucking needs beer.

See? Maybe food is not that hard.

He is just loading another pack of beer into his cart when someone stops by his side, studying him carefully. He feels antsy under that powerful gaze, much like he felt when a certain someone used to look at him and he tries not to feel too stupid about the fact that it's a kid who's making him feel like that.

He turns to his side to fully meet the boy's gaze, taking a second to look at him. He thinks that if Finn was here with him, he would make a joke about how one of his long lost children had finally found him. That shit wasn't funny, by any means, but it had happened once when they were still in college so he thought it would happen again if Finn ever saw the miniature of himself that Puck is seeing now.

Fuck, that shit is creepy.

The boy is young, probably over five or something like that, his skin the same tone as his, jaw set in the exact same way and expression that he used to see when he looked at himself in the mirror, back when he was a kid. He can even see a small mohawk in the boy's hair, though that clashes drastically with his pristine clothes, just as if he's walked out of a catalog of some children's fancy store. The only difference are the eyes. Deep brown eyes stare back at his hazel ones and it sends a shiver down his spine. Fuck, that is starting to get really fucking creepy.

"S'up?" he asks the boy, raising an eyebrow as he looks around, trying to find the boy's parents. Surely the kid isn't there alone, right? Also, what kind of fucked up parents can't keep an eye on their kid? Don't they know that there are like, crazy serial killers and shit like that out there? Well, apparently not.

"Are you aware this is bad for your health?" the boy asks, pointing to all the beer in his cart, but he's too busy staring at the kid to pay any attention. Okay, now he's really fucking scared.

"Where are your parents, kid?" he asks, because he needs someone to take this boy away from him right now. He's pretty sure he's gonna have nightmares already, and he seriously doesn't want to consider the possibility that he and...

No. He is _definitely_ not going there.

"My name is Nathaniel, and my mother is just down the next isle, debating on the pros and cons of different tofu brands."

Shit. Couldn't the kid just give him a normal answer? He is already too freaked out as he is and that kid talking just... just like _her_, is definitely _not_ helping.

"What's your name?" Nathaniel asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Fuck, can five year old kids even do that?

"Puck," he answers gruffly, running his hand through the back of his neck. "Why do you go back to your mother, huh? Bet she's gonna be worried."

"Well, you're rude," the boy says, making him roll his eyes at him.

"No shit, Sherlock." Okay, maybe that's no way to talk to a kid, but how is he supposed to know? He's never had one (and right then, he's thinking that he would like to keep that way).

"Swear!" Nathaniel exclaims, extending his palm to collect his money.

Puck sighs; ten minutes around this kid and he's gonna go broke. "I'm not your dad, I don't have to give you money."

(But he does anyway.)

"Thank you, Mr. Puck," Nathaniel says and he has the urge to roll his eyes again, because what's up with this kid? Can't he like, just leave him alone or some shit like that? He has nothing against kids, really, but Nathaniel just makes him anxious and he really doesn't like feeling like that.

They're having some kind of staring contest when he hears _it_, loud and clear, as if it had been just yesterday when he heard that voice.

"Nathaniel?"

(Well, fuck.)

He sees the boy glance at him one more time before he starts to move towards the voice, _her_ voice.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Puck." he says, turning around the corner and disappearing.

Puck thinks he should leave. Fuck the food, he has to walk away now while he's just thinking he's going crazy and everything that's happening is his imagination. Yeah, that's exactly what he has to do.

Before he notices, though, he is peaking down the next isle and, sure enough, there she is. It feels as if he's being hit by a wave of flashbacks, memories that freeze him into place, making him feel like he's sixteen all over again. It sounds like a fucking cliché, he knows, but it's hard to stop the feelings that take over him. And believe when he says, he'd very much like to stop them.

(Feelings and stuff like that? Definitely not his thing.)

But he just can't help it.

She looks good. No, scratch that, she looks fucking amazing. He had her in his arms once, and suddenly he feels likes he needs to have her again. Yet, he feels angry. Pissed, even. She has a kid? Why did no one tell him that? Yeah, fine, he hasn't spoken to Finn in a couple of years, but he had to have known about this, right? Puck knows for a fact that Finn and Quinn are engaged (facebook is a bless, really) and that Quinn is Rachel's best friend (freaky, huh?) so it's kinda hard to think that Finn wouldn't know about this. So why did no one tell him? Fine, he and Rachel were never friends, he knows that. For all that he can tell, Finn has no idea they even slept together that one time before Rachel left for New York with Quinn (they were supposed to be sharing an apartment together, since Quinn would be attending NYU), but still. It's a damn kid! Someone should've mentioned that. Especially when the kid is over five years and looks just like...

Oh fuck.

No. No way, no how. He just... he has to leave. Yes, that is exactly what he has to do. He has to stop looking at her and having these stupid thoughts because they're really not helping right now. He needs to go to a bar and get completely hammered, forgetting the fact that Rachel Berry even exists. He'd been doing just fine before.

(Well, not really, but whatever.)

One stupid encounter with her kid is not gonna change his life. He won't allow it.

So, with one last glance at her (and shaking his head at the fact that she's fixing Nathaniel's clothes and scolding him for wandering off on his own) he turns around and leaves, not even bothering with his food. He doesn't plan on eating much (or at all) today, anyway.

**...**

She's tired.

No, scratch that, she's _exhausted_.

She has eight shows a week, rehearsals and a five (almost six) year old who has a knack for trouble. So no, life is not easy for her, by any means. But honestly? She wouldn't have it any other way. Even after the struggle to get through acting college raising a boy, making a name for herself at the age of 24 and making sure her son had everything he needed, that she was home every night to tuck him into bed, even after all that, she doesn't regret it, not for a split second.

Nathaniel _is_ her life.

Back when she was in high school, she never imagined her life would be like this. She had dreams of taking Broadway by storm, having won an EGOT by the age of thirty, being incredibly famous before she could even think about settling down and building a family. Fate, of course, had other things in store for her.

She thought she would marry her high school sweetheart, but she quickly realized that particular dream wouldn't come true when Jesse broke up with her on their senior year. She was heart-broken for a couple of moths, but her acceptance letter to Julliard arrived and completely changed that. She had plans, after all. She'd had them since she was eight, nothing could change that.

And then, just before she was supposed to leave, _he _came in and changed her life.

They'd dated for over one week on their sophomore year, but she never quite forgot how his lips felt against hers, how his touch could set her skin on fire. She'd dated Jesse for over seven months, but those months were nothing compared to that one week she spent with Noah Puckerman. She loved Jesse, she did, but the passion for the McKinley High resident stud burned brighter than she'd ever be able to admit. She spent years and years fighting it, brushing off his snarky remarks, his blatant flirting and his offers to get inside her pants.

Until one day, she didn't.

It was the last Glee club party before summer started. She hadn't told him she was leaving (partially because she didn't think she could and partially because she didn't think he cared) but for her (and Quinn) that last party was kind of a 'going away' party. She'd heard he was going to OSU and she didn't know when, if ever, she was going to see him again, so what harm would it do? He was drunk, she was tipsy, so why would she fight it? She wanted him, he wanted her, and one night wouldn't hurt. She just had to know how it felt to be in his arms like that.

So she'd given herself to him. Let him take the most precious thing she had, and in return, he'd given her the most important thing in her life.

When she found out about the pregnancy, she wanted to kill him. She spent nights and nights crying on Quinn's shoulder, or listening to Santana curse his behind into the next century in Spanish while she cried on the phone, wondering how she could've ruined her life like that. She thought about not keeping the baby, about how her career and her future were more important than that. But the truth was, they weren't. The moment she saw that plus sign staring at her, she knew that her priorities had changed.

Her dads didn't think twice about moving to New York. She thought about telling Noah, but in the end, she decided that he was probably better off, though he was to blame about that pregnancy just as much as she was. But he was all the way in Ohio and he wasn't a part of her life, never really had been, in all reality. Also, she feared that he would tell her he didn't want anything to do with it, or try and change her mind about keeping it. So she sworn her friends to secrecy and kept going with her life.

Even when she had to stop her studies for six months, even when Nathaniel was too sick for her to leave his side... she made through it all. Not without help, of course, but still. Her life is the way it is today because of that one night over six years ago, and she wouldn't change a thing if she could.

He had his name; she'd made sure of that. Though he barely used, the P. on his middle name stood for his father's last name and Rachel never hid from Nate who his father is. He couldn't understand things (as bright a kid as he is) but she refused to lie to him about that. Honestly, there were only so many secrets she could keep.

She thought if her son wished to go after his father when he was old enough to do so, she wouldn't stop him. She just didn't know fate would decide to bite her in the ass before that happened.

"Ma?" she hears, the voice small and coated with sleep. It's just after eleven and she is sitting in the TV room of her apartment, quietly sipping on her tea while she takes notes of all the things she has to do in the morning before she's due at the theater. Nathaniel's voice shakes her out of her thoughts and she turns around to find her son standing at the threshold, holding his favorite teddy bear and scrubbing the sleep off his eyes. It's only been a couple of hours since she sent him to bed.

"You okay, Munchkin?" she asks, patting the spot on her legs and throwing her things to the side, so that the boy can climb on her arms, resting his head on her shoulder.

Nathaniel is quiet for a few minutes and she thinks that he might have fallen back asleep, but then he starts stirring again, biting his lips as he looks up at her.

"I met my father today," he whispers and Rachel feels cold all of sudden, just as if someone had slushied her. She takes deep breaths, trying to remember that such thing her son is telling her is completely not possible.

"Nate, baby..." she starts, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing. "I told you already that your father lives far away. There's no way you could've met him."

She watches her son's face fall, and her heart breaks at the realization that he misses a father figure, that he is what she had heard Noah say that his kids would never be, that he'd be there for them. Now he doesn't have a son and Nathaniel doesn't have a father and it's all because she's been too scared to do the right thing.

"Today at the supermarket," Nate starts again, resolve taking over his feature. "When I walked away, I met a man just like the one in that picture you gave me. But he doesn't have a hair like mine anymore."

She watches as he runs a hand through his own mohawk, the stupid haircut she hates and loves at the same time. Nate is rambling, a particular trait he's certainly picked up from her, his little face lightning up as he goes on and she thinks she might have entered some sort of alternative universe, because there's no way Noah could've been in the same state as her, let alone the same supermarket. He whole idea is unfathomable.

"Maybe it was just someone that looked like him, sweetie," she reasons, trying to find a logical and acceptable explanation that can justify her son's encounter.

"He told me his name was Puck," Nate whispers and Rachel feels her heart skip a beat inside her chest.

Her son is not a liar. She'd like to believe that he's making that up, that it's just something he's doing to make up for the fact that he's never going to meet his father, but... he is her _son_. She knows him better than she knows herself and he is a Berry, honesty is one of their most recognizable traits. And if all that isn't enough, he also happens to be a Puckerman, which means he has no qualms about what he says, which has caused Rachel more trouble than she cares to admit. One way or another, she just knows that the moment she's been dreading her entire life has finally arrived.

She has absolutely no idea how she's supposed to deal with this new-found information and, of course, of all the ways her son could meet his father, fate would choose the less likely one to bring them together. Rachel likes to think that it would make a good story in the future, but at this particular moment, she just can't bring herself to appreciate the irony.

"Nate, munchkin, we don't know for sure if it was him and even if it were, the circumstances are quite unique an it's highly possible that you won't ever see him again."

Nathaniel frowns, his round, big brown eyes filling with tears and she feels her heart breaking into a million pieces because she's the reason why her son is broken like that. She's the one who made the decision of raising him without a father and she can see now that there's nothing Nathaniel wants more than someone to fill that role. And what kind of mother would she be if she didn't at least try to give him that?

"Look," she says, making Nate turn his bright eyes to meet hers. "I'll look for your father. If he's here, in New York, I'll make sure that you'll get to meet him. How does that sound?"

He grins at her, nodding excitedly and Rachel has to stop the feeling that takes over her as to what it'll mean to their lives if Noah indeed is in New York.

"I love you, Ma." Nate whispers, and she can tell he's falling back asleep.

She can't help the tear that rolls down her cheeks as she lets out a soft, "I love you too, Nate," in return. She just knows her entire world is about to be shaken out of its axis and she's not sure how she's going to deal with the aftermath of her lies.


	3. I Still Believe In Summer Days

**A/N:** _Hi guise! Happy New Year! Sorry I couldn't get this up sooner, but between the holidays and getting sick, this had to be pushed back a little. This chapter is bigger than the last two, though, so I hope this makes up for it! Thank you for all the reviews and everything, you guise are the greatest! :)  
_

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**II.**_ I Still Believe In Summer Days_

_...  
_

He's freaking the fuck out.

No, to be honest, that's the understatement of the century. He is way beyond that, really. As soon as he got home, he decided it was time to throw caution to the wind and ignore his self-imposed rule of not wanting to know anything about Rachel Berry. Now, much to his dismay, he knows more than he can possibly handle. He's tried to Facebook her, but the search came up empty, so he tried something more broad; _Google_ was more than happy to provide him with everything he didn't need to know about Rachel and even her son, the five-year old Nathaniel Berry.

But he still couldn't believe it, even after all those tabs staring at him. He feels like they're mocking him, somehow, finding something rewarding in his distress, though he knows it's fucking stupid, because it's not like a computer can actually make fun of him or what he's feeling at the moment. But whatever, it feels like that and he's not in the mood to try and make sense of it.

Picking up the phone, he dials a number from memory, though he hasn't used it in almost two years, and waits. Three rings later, someone picks up and he doesn't even bother with greetings, just goes straight to the point, "Berry has a _kid_?"

When his question is met with silence, he rolls his eyes, though he knows the person on the other side of the line can't see it. "Hudson?"

"Shit," Finn whispers, and let's out a sigh. "Hey, Puck. How's it been, dude? Long time no talk, right?"

He lets out a heavy sigh, "Cute the crap, dude. I don't have time for this to become some kind of girly reunion."

"How did you find out?" Finn asks after a couple of seconds, and Puck knows that he's trying to make sense of what's going on, though he's also pretty sure that it's a vain attempt, because Finn is as dumb as a doormat, even if he sorta is his best friend. Well, was, but dude has been keeping this from him for the longest time, so he's not sure anymore. He does know shit like that kinda hurts, even if he's not the kind of guy to admit things like that. He has balls, you know?

"Dude," he starts, trying to keep his voice calm and collected. It's no use. "It's everywhere!"

Finn goes quiet again, and Puck can tell that a frown is taking over his features. Patience, that's what he needs at the moment. Lots and lots of fucking patience. Finn speaks again almost a whole minute later, "It is?"

Fuck this shit, why can't things be easy for him?

"You never Googled her name?"

" Not really, no." Finn says and then he lets out a heavy breath. "Sorry I never told you, man. But she made me promise, and then Quinn threatened me and Santana joined the bunch... you know how scary they are, can you imagine the three of them together? They'd kill me, really."

Puck lets out a chuckle, because he knows that's true. He's not afraid of chicks, hell no, but if he were less of a guy, then he's pretty sure those three together would be enough to make him fear for his manhood. He can see where Finn's coming from, but it's still hard to deal with it. He feels that his nervousness is quickly turning into anger and betrayal and fuck, he doesn't like that shit. At all.

But now is not the time to lash out on his friend. Honestly, Finn is not really the one to blame. He knows that despite the fact that he's been with Quinn since their sophomore year of high school, he's always had a soft spot for Rachel. It works that he's gonna marry her best friend, because they both dot on her, even though Quinn only came to her senses after being a bitch to Rachel for the longest time. But as it is, Puck knows that the reason why Finn never told him is because he has his balls wrapped in their fingers and he would never dream of betraying Rachel, let alone Quinn _and_ Rachel. He thinks that maybe that sort of thing is more important than the bro code, so he's not gonna dwell too much on that fact. Besides, it's none of his business anyway, right?

"Who's the father?" he asks before he can stop himself, and Finn stammers, going quiet again.

"I don't know, actually," he admits and Puck frowns. "She's never told me."

The fuck...?

"So she's not married, then?"

Okay, maybe he's having a problem with the whole 'none of his business' thing. He doesn't know what the fuck is up with him, really. It's not like he cares if she's married or not. Seriously, he doesn't.

(Except he totally does.)

"Married?" Finn lets out an amused laugh. "Nah, man. She lives for two things, Nate and Broadway. She's had a few boyfriends over the years, but they never last. Nate is quite a handful. Reminds me a lot of you, actually..."

"Is that so?" Puck mumbles, his throat going dry at Finn's words. Fuck, it just can't be, right? She wouldn't. Yeah, definitely not possible.

"Tottaly," he hears his friend mutter, seemingly not picking up on his unease. "So, what's brought this? Why were you Googling Rachel's name?"

He winces at the way her name rolls easily off Finn's tongue, knowing that as dim as Finn is, he's also incredibly curious and he's not gonna let Puck go without an answer.

"Saw her name all over the city, thought I'd look up to know what she's been up to," he lies, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Wait, you're in New York?" Finn exclaims into the phone.

Puck chuckles, "Yeah, just got here about a month ago. Got a record deal."

"Dude, that's awesome! We should totally meet up!"

"That sounds cool, man." Puck agrees, because whether he's freaking out or not, he misses his best friend a lot. They fell out of touch when Finn moved to New York after graduation, but it didn't mean that they weren't friends anymore. Finn had been there through it all and Puck knew that no matter how long they stayed apart, they could go back to the way they were in the blink of an eye. It was just how their friendship worked.

"Great," Finn says and Puck can tell that he is genuinely excited. "I gotta go now, man. I'm supposed to meet Quinn for lunch and I'm already late. She's gonna have my head. But we'll talk soon, okay?"

"Yeah," Puck agrees. "Later, dude."

Finn hangs up without another word and Puck falls on his couch, rubbing his eyes. It's been over one week since he's met Nathaniel and the whole thing it's just driving him crazy. He knows what he's supposed to do, but he's not sure if he wants to deal with the outcome of his actions. If he goes after Rachel, he has a feeling that everything in his life will change and he's not even talking about Nate. The small brunette has always had a strong power over him and he knows that if he actually talks to her again, he's going to be walking into dangerous territory. He really just doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to do.

When did life start sucking so fucking bad?

…

In her first eighteen years of life, Rachel Berry had never had anything not going according to the plan. And then Noah Puckerman came along and just threw her plans out of the window, making her re-think everything she thought she knew and wanted. It figures that six years later, he would be the one to do it again.

She thinks that maybe fate just hates her a whole lot, or maybe karma really is a bitch. She knows that she's made plenty of mistakes in her life, but she really thought that if she did things to make up for it, she'd be able to get away with them. Well, wishful thinking, really. Life's not nice like that and she knows this first hand.

It's been a week since Nate told her about his encounter with Noah, and she's been walking on eggshells. She keeps waiting for the day that things will come crashing down and that she'll have to deal with the secrets she's been concealing, that Noah will just walk into her life and demand to have something to do with Nathaniel, or even say that he wants to take him from her. She knows it's stupid, that he would never do such thing, but she also knows that he is not going to be too pleased about his discoveries and she just doesn't want him to hate her, even if she does deserves to be hated. And very much so, if she's being honest.

Maybe life would've been easier if she hadn't been such a coward.

She's just got home from her show and is getting ready to tuck Nate into bed when the doorbell rings, startling her a bit. She usually doesn't get unexpected visitors and she isn't waiting for anybody, but she shrugs it off and walks to the door, Nate on her arms. He's getting so big that she's pretty sure it won't be long until she's not able to carry him around like that anymore.

When she opens the door, Nate lets out a squeal before he pushes forward, practically jumping from her arms, "Aunty Quinn!"

She lets go of him, closing the door as Quinn steps inside, tickling Nate's sides and grinning at him.

"Well, that's a lovely surprise," she says, smiling at her best friend as she finally puts Nate down, turning to hug her. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn chews on her bottom lip and Rachel knows that her friend is not quite sure how to approach the subject. They've been best friends for years, after Quinn finally stopped acting like a bitch (well, most of the time, anyway) and they know each other better than imaginable, so she knows that whatever Quinn is doing there, it's bound to shook her a little bit. Well, not like her world isn't already upside down, anyway.

"Aunty Quinn, will you read me a story?" Nate asks before Quinn can say anything and Rachel gives her a small nod, letting her know that they'll talk when Nate is asleep. Quinn gives her a soft smile before she turns to Nate, picking him up again.

"Sure thing, buddy. You know Aunty Quinn loves reading to you," she grins at him before walking down the hall and into his room.

Rachel follows, leaning against the door and watching them, smiling at how amazing her best friend is with her son. She knows that Quinn wants to have kids more than anything, and she knows that with the wedding so close, it's only a matter of time, really. She's actually surprised it hasn't happened yet, but she also knows how Quinn's parents are particularly uptight about things like children out of the wedlock, and it doesn't surprise her that Quinn's decided to wait. She's seen the not-so-subtle judgment in Judy Fabray's eyes when she looks at Nate, but still, she isn't the first one to act like that and she certainly won't be the last and Rachel knows that Quinn is nothing like her mother. She broke away from those shackles when they moved to New York and if it wasn't for her best friend, she's not sure how she even would have managed to raise Nate.

She really would be nothing without Quinn, and she can only thank those up there for bringing someone so great into her life.

When Nate's finally asleep, Quinn pulls the covers up, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead before she gets up and walks back to the living room with Rachel. She takes a bottle from her bag, and walks to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses before she comes back, taking a sit on the couch and chewing on her bottom lip again.

"Why are we drinking?" Rachel asks, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

Quinn shrugs, pouring them two glasses of wine and handing one to Rachel, "I think we should."

"Quinn..."

Rachel knows that look. It's the same look that Quinn gets when she has to say something but she's not sure how she's supposed to do. It's a bit unnerving, because Rachel knows that whatever it's coming, she really will be needing that drink her friend is offering.

"Finn's got a call today," she says carefully, taking a huge breath before she speaks again. "From Puck."

"Oh."

"He is in town," Quinn supplies, taking a sip of her drink as she watches Rachel's face.

"Oh."

Rachel watches as Quinn opens her mouth to say something, clearly frustrated at her lack of reaction, but is interrupted as Rachel's phone rings, the familiar tone blasting around the room.

"Are we drinking yet?" Santana asks as soon as Rachel picks up, and she can't help but roll her eyes at her other best friend.

"Hello to you too, Santana. How have you been?" her throat is dry and it takes a few minutes to force the words out, but despite the fact that her body is suddenly cold, she knows she has to do her best to deal with this. "How do you know we're drinking?"

"Fabray called me a while ago," Santana informs and Rachel sends a glare towards Quinn. Of course they'd be in this together. "I figured the little man would be going to bed soon, so I just waited a while before I called. So, are we drinking or not?"

She hits the button to put Santana on speaker before she takes a sip of her wine, "Yes, we're drinking. But you're not even here, S."

"Well, I know that, Berry, but I'm not gonna let you two have all the fun," even over the phone, she can tell that Santana is rolling her eyes at her.

"Of course," she gives in, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"I just told her what Finn told me," Quinn informs, leaning against Rachel on the couch. "She hasn't said anything yet."

"She's in shock, of course. Did you try to shake her?"

Rachel lets out a heavy breath, "I'm not in shock. I know that he's in town already."

"_You do_?"

"Wait, What?"

She takes another sip of her wine, ignoring the pointed look that Quinn is sending her way and the sound of Santana's voice. She knows that her friends are only trying to help her, but she's having enough problems dealing with this already and it's hard enough as it is. She really doesn't need more trouble regarding the whole Noah Puckerman issue.

"So, when are you gonna find your way into his arms again and get your happy family, like those stupid books?" Santana asks, a bored tone, though Rachel knows that she's actually worried about the entire thing.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, S." Rachel informs her, and Quinn nods by her side.

"Why not? You can solve everything with sex, seriously. If we ever fought, we'd probably have really hot make-up sex."

Quinn rolls her eyes, and Rachel lets out a chuckle. Leave it to Santana to think that sex can solve everything.

"Don't you have a wife, Santana?" Quinn asks, and Rachel falls into a fit of giggles.

"I do, and she says 'hi', by the way."

"Hi Britt," Rachel and Quinn say at the same time.

"She also says she misses you bitches, but I just think we're better off," she stops for a second, before she continues. "Anyway, Puckerman. How did you know he's in town? Finessa only heard about it today."

"Don't call him that," Quinn jumps in and Santana lets out a heavy sigh, followed by a 'whatever'.

Rachel takes another sip of her wine, chewing her bottom lip for a moment, before she finally caves, "Nate met him."

"Fuck," Santana mutters.

"He _what_?" Quinn squeaks, eyes wide like sausages.

"A week ago, actually," Rachel explains. "We were grocery shopping and Nate wandered off, next thing I know, we're home and he's telling me how he's met his father. I promised him that if Noah really was in town, I'd do my best to get them together. I just didn't really think that Noah Puckerman would be here, in New York, of all places."

"Fuck, Berry, you're screwed."

"Well, thank you, Santana, that's very nice of you," she says, rolling her eyes at her best friend's antics.

"What do you plan on doing?" Quinn asks, eyes focused on her.

"I don't think I have a choice," Rachel explains, shrugging. "I promised Nate I would find him, so that's all I have to do. I just hope things work out for the best."

Finishing her glass of wine, she grabs the bottle and pours herself another drink. She'd been hoping that Nate was just mistaken, but now she really has to deal with the fact that Noah Puckerman is closer to her than he's been for the last six years and everything in her life is about to change. She can't hide anymore and she isn't about to break a promise she's made to her son, so really, all there's left to do is find Noah and hope that he will not hate her as much as she thinks he will.

She's really glad that Quinn thought of bringing something for them to drink. She's not one to let herself indulge in such things as alcohol, but at that particular moment, she thinks she's allowed to.

…

As it turns out, she didn't have to worry about it much longer.

She doesn't know if it's a good thing or not, but the next day, when she's walking out from the theater, her head pounding in a very unpleasant way (that's made her vow never to touch any kind of alcohol substance again), she stops dead in her tracks, the wind being knocked out of her chest as she stares at the person standing in front of her, arms crossed against his chest.

"Noah..." she whispers, eyes widening as she takes a good look at him.

He looks good, but that doesn't really surprise her. He's always looked far more amazing than it should be considered legal, and she knows that feeling that rushes through her body very well. The mere sight of him, even after all of those years, is still enough to make her body long for him, her fingers itching to touch some part of his skin, the yearn that she's felt since she was a stupid teenager. But at the same time, she notices the differences; he looks better, there's no question about that, but he also looks more mature, even more like a man than he did in high school. And she knows she shouldn't be noticing these things, because she knows that whatever is about to happen, it won't end up with them in each other's arms, professing their endless love, but she just can't help the emotions he's always managed to stir in her. Try as she might, she just can't fight the hold he has on her; always have, always will. It's just one of those things that just _are _and no one can do anything about it.

"Berry," he grunts with a nod, and all of her thoughts still as the cold takes over her body. His voice is devoid of any emotion, like seeing her in front of him after all these years is doing nothing, like he's actually _annoyed_ at the prospect of even talking to her. It makes no sense, given that he's the one standing outside of the theater where she works, but maybe he's just lost or something. Maybe she should just walk away and not see him again for years and years. Maybe, just maybe, he doesn't suspect the fact that he has a son and that she's kept that from him for nearly seven years.

But then she remembers that she made a promise to Nathaniel and that just shuts down her flight response. It is, apparently, time to fight.

(She thinks, actually, that it's long overdue.)

So she takes a deep breath, and walks the few steps closer to him, her fingers gripping the straps of her bag so tightly that her knuckles are turning white. "How are you, Noah?"

He scoffs, "Cut the shit, Berry. It's been over six years, I think there's no room for chit chat."

She winces, taken aback by the way he just cuts to the point, ever the direct one. It's been so long since she's had to deal with how he simply just says what he has to say, like he doesn't tip toes around her, not caring how his words will hit her, just thinking about getting his point across. She appreciates it, really, because she doesn't need people being afraid of saying things to her face, or beating around the bush, but it's been so long that the entire thing just takes her by surprise. It's just so _him_ that she can't help but feel even more overcome with memories and things she shouldn't be feeling. At all.

"I think not," she agrees, letting out a soft sigh. "Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?"

He rolls his eyes, and she knows he wants to say no, because whatever the reason that he's decided to look for her, she's sure that going for a cup of coffee is definitely not in his plans. But he nods after a moment, and she is aware that he's only doing it to humor her. Because she knows that if he wanted, he'd just say something incredibly rude and just tell her what he's come here to say, because he certainly doesn't need to bother with any kind of pleasantries. But he's doing anyway, so she can just let out a heavy breath and walk across the street to one small cafe, acutely aware of his body next to hers, the warmth radiating even across the gap he's made sure to put between them.

She thinks she might be going dizzy. Being around him like that, like she hasn't spent the last six years missing him and wishing she could've done the right thing, she just... she just thinks it's all too much at once.

They walk inside and move to a booth in the far end of the cafe, placing their orders and waiting for them in silence. She tries to look at him, tries to take in all the subtle changes in his stance, tries to catch his eyes and see anything, but he just keeps looking everywhere but her, and it's just wrong because she's always been the one to look away from him, not the other way around.

The waitress brings their coffee and Rachel fishes out her phone, sending Quinn a message and asking her if she can pick up Nate at school, before she turns to him again.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, even if she already knows the answer. Well, she doesn't know what he's doing in _New York_, per say, but after talking with Nate and then listening as Quinn told her about the conversation he had with Finn, she thinks she knows pretty well why he's _there_. But she doesn't know how to start this particular conversation, so she's just stalling as much as she can.

"I heard you have a kid," he says after taking a drink of his coffee and Rachel sighs again. Apparently they _really _don't have time for pleasantries.

She nods, "I've heard you met him, actually."

He seems surprised, and she takes some small pleasure in it, because she knows that he wasn't expecting her to be as straight to the point as he is being. But she knows what he's doing there and she's made her son a promise and she's not going to back out now. It's all moving too fast for her to try and get a grip of everything, so instead she thinks she should just control her own tendency to ramble and just do what has to be done. Maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to get some good out of it.

He's quiet for a while, nodding slowly as he takes a drink of his coffee, and then he puts his elbows on the table, hands clasped together as he looks intently at her, "And who's the father?"

She wants to lie. Her first instinct is to tell him that it's not of his business, that he's nothing but an old acquaintance who she's had sex with once and then left, thinking that she'd never see him again. She really, _really _wants to lie, but she can't find it in herself to push the worlds out of her mouth. She thinks it's stupid that they're having this conversation as if they're talking about minor things in their lives, like they're just two friends having coffee and catching up. As someone who's always had a flair for the dramatics, she thinks that is absolutely no way to talk about their past and what has come of it.

It is how it is, though, and maybe it'll work out for the best that way.

"I think you already know the answer to that question, otherwise you wouldn't be here today, would you, Noah?"

His jaw clenches and she blinks at him, wondering where that sudden behavior came from. She's always been blunt, yes, honest to a fault, but she's never been like that. She has no problem coming out and saying what's going on in her mind, but that snarkiness, the near sarcasm, it just seems like it's something _he_ would do, not the other way around.

(She wonders what it means that she's been around him again for so little time and he's already affecting her like that.)

"I don't wanna make assumptions, Berry," he shrugs, trying to appear unaffected by the entire thing, but she can see the way her shoulders are tense and the way his lips are pressed together. "I learned a long time ago that they only mean disappointment."

That statement feels like a personal jab, but she can't quite put her finger on what he means exactly, so she just lets out a heavy sigh and locks eyes with him, deciding that if she just acts like it's a band-aid, it'll be easier. Just rip it off at once.

"Six years ago, before I left for college, I had sex with one of my classmates," she tells him, her voice even as she puts all of her acting skills to good use. "I left the next day, and one month after that, I found out I was pregnant. After nearly seven years, he's standing in front of me again. Do I need to be more clear, Noah?"

He lets out a sarcastic laugh, his eyes empty as he looks at her, "You're a heartless bitch, aren't you?"

In the back of her mind, she thinks she deserves that. After all that she's done to him, maybe that's really a small price to pay. Still, she just can't ignore the pain that shoots through her body at his words. He sounds vicious, his tone coated with all the hate she's sure he feels for her. She notices that tears are prickling into her eyes but she just can't bring herself to acknowledge them. She doesn't think she has the right to, even if his worlds cut through her like a sharpened knife. And even when she wants to say something, wants to defend herself and her actions, she just can't. Once again, he's rendered her speechless.

Comparing to the last time he's done that, she doesn't like this one so much.

"A kid," he whispers, shaking his head. "A fucking son. I have a fucking son and you never had the fucking guts to tell me. Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, Berry?"

He's raising his voice, trying to get something out of her, anything, she knows, but she just doesn't know what to say. All those times she played this moment in her head, no matter how bad he reacted in her mind, it was never like this. She always had the right words, the perfect way to make everything right and now it's just... gone. All her eloquence, all her reasons, all her defences. When it comes down to it, she has nothing.

And he knows it.

She knows all he wants are answers, but even when she thought she had them, she doesn't. And before she can realize what he's doing, he's getting up and throwing some bills on the table and glaring down at her.

"I can't even fucking stand to look at you right now," he seethes. "This isn't over, Berry."

And then he's gone.

By the time she notices that the tears are flowing freely down her face, she's already attracted the attention of half of the people in the small establishment, including the waiter that always takes her order whenever she's here. She shakes her head and mutters that she's fine as the woman asks her if there's anything she can do for her, and then she's walking outside, the cold weather hitting her as she makes her way home.

It's a bit ironic that a few weeks ago, she thought of winter as yet just another season, and now she hates it because it's cold and gloom and after everything that's happened, it's just how she feels. Maybe she should find some comfort in it, but mostly she just wants it to be over. She knows it's futile, but she just wants her old life again, because despite it's ups and downs it was still fairly easy if compared to what she's living now.

Making use of a poor metaphor, she is ready for the summer again.


End file.
